


The Most Important Person

by PaperclippedMime



Category: Bakuten Shoot Beyblade, Beyblade
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 18:50:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13441053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaperclippedMime/pseuds/PaperclippedMime
Summary: Real World AU.Just because the Blitzkrieg Boys had never been abandoned on the streets by their families and consequently taken up by Balkov for training in The Abbey doesn't mean that all is well for every one of them. When Boris's cruel father finally figures out the secret his son had been trying to hide from him for years and chases him out of the house, Boris unwittingly ends up at the doorstep of the person whose help - and love - he so desperately wants to receive - but doesn't dare hope to get.





	The Most Important Person

**Author's Note:**

> A short drabble that will most likely not get finished, but I just love this Beyblade rare pair /so much/, I feel like I have to start posting things for them eventually or I just never will. 
> 
> CW: brief mention of domestic abuse and alcoholism.

"Borya? What are you--" the look of recognition turned to look of horror as Sergey noticed the flowering purple bruise on the side of Boris's face. "What the hell--"

"Serezha, who is it?" Sergey's mother's voice drifted out from inside the apartment.

Boris held his breath. What the hell was he thinking, coming to Sergey's family apartment, barging into his normal life in the middle of the night unannounced like this? He had to get out, now, before he made any more of a mess out of tonight.

"Mom, it's Borya, he brought something I forgot at practice! I'll be right back!" Sergey shouted back inside and quickly closed the door behind him. 

 _Yeah, brought you nothing but trouble,_  Boris thought bitterly. 

"Boris, what in the world happened to you?" Sergey rushed over to his friend, coming close enough to examine his wound. 

"It's--" the words refused to come as a lump rose in the back of Boris's throat. All the hurt and embarrassment of tonight were boiling inside him and he was afraid he might burst at any moment. 

"It's nothing," Boris forced the words out, trying to make it seem like this wasn't a big deal despite the very plain evidence to the contrary. Not making eye contact with Sergey, who he could tell was intently studying his face and whose breath he could feel so close to him, was helping, but only so much. 

_Just get out of here, this is crazy, don't pull him into your shitty, miserable life any more than you have already._

"Listen, I'm sorry, I was just in the area but I didn't realize how late it was, I'm gonna go--," _you_ can't _go home_. "I'm gonna leave now."

"Wait, Borya, you're not making sense, what happened to you? It's almost midnight, how-- why did you come here?"

"No, it's fine, forget about it."

He bolted down the stairs but barely made it three steps down when he felt a strong arm wrap around his waist and hurl him back up the staircase. Sergey swept him up and planted him back up on the landing, placing himself on the stair below and blocking his path to escape. The taller boy glared at him and Boris had to catch his breath at the look of dogged determination in his friend's face. 

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?" Sergey demanded calmly. 

"Listen, I said _I'm sorry_ , now let me go," Boris summoned up all of his remaining strength to sound as nonchalant and annoyed as possible but realized that he couldn't even convince himself. 

"Borya," Sergey's expression softened a bit. "Please tell me what happened."

Boris looked down at his feet, his brow furrowing in thought. He couldn't bring himself to tell Sergey why his bigoted alcoholic of a father chased him out of the house. Tonight had been an exhausting, trying, terrifying experience, but at the end of the day, he and his father never got along, and this just happened to be the straw that broke the camel's back. Even if he hated it, he realized on the subway that, deep down, he had always known this kind of complete eruption was inevitable. What he couldn't bare was the thought of his friend, someone he loved so damn much - more than he dared to admit in this day and age in Russia - rejecting him for who he was as well. 

He dared to look back up at Sergey. The young man was waiting for him patiently, concern reflected in his deep blue eyes. Boris felt like crying. He was scared shitless, but this was Sergey. Serezha, whom he had known since they were kids. He knew he could trust his friend to at least tell him some of the truth. Even if not the complete truth. 

"Serezh, I--" he looked back down at his feet, words somehow easier to find on top of his dusty sneakers. "My father kicked me out of the house."

He heard Sergey take a sharp inhale. 

"Did your father do this to you?" Sergey almost hissed out, clearly referring to the mark on Boris's face. 

"Yeah, we... got into a fight."

"Borya, what-- are you okay? Is your mother okay?"

Boris looked up at Sergey - Christ, was his friend going to think now that he had just abandoned his poor mother? But his father had only been furious at him, and even if he would have literally killed the boy had he gotten his hands on him, as long as Boris’s mother didn't get in his way--

_Oh no._

The panicked look of terror on Boris's face must have told Sergey all he needed to know. The look of determination was back on his face as in one powerful yet graceful motion he stepped up to the landing, wrapped an arm around Boris's shoulders, and lead both of them back to the apartment. Boris's heart beat frantically in his chest. 

"Serezha, wait! I can't just barge in-- I'm--"

Sergey stopped, his hand midway to the door handle. He turned to face Boris, one hand reaching up to hold Boris's upper arm, the other sliding down to where the young man was holding his sports bag. It wasn't until Sergey had placed his warm hand over his that Boris realized how tightly he had been clutching the shoulder strap of his bag, as if that was the only thing he had left to tether him to this world. 

"Borya, stop that right now. This is serious. You need help and I am going to help you."

Boris was about to interject but the look in Sergey’s eyes made him swallow his words. 

"Please,” Sergey continued. “I know you are strong and you can handle the worst storms life throws at you. But it's okay to not face them all by yourself," Sergey's expression softened, his eyes pleading with his friend. "So please. Let me help you."

As tears threatened to break through again, all Boris could do to keep himself together was grit his teeth and nod to his friend. Sergey smiled softly, a smile of genuine relief, a smile that could have made Boris forget all the terrible things that happened tonight, and with a gentle squeeze to Boris's hand the boy turned to open the door and lead both of them inside the apartment. As Sergey locked the door behind them and rushed into the kitchen, calling out to his mother, Boris's fingers drifted up to where Sergey had held his hand.

 _Maybe just this once, I can be selfish,_  he thought. He almost recoiled at the thought, but then pushed back, allowing himself to indulge in the fantasy of his ideal world that could never be. Sergey's face, a soft smile on his beautiful lips, was clear in his head. 

_Maybe just this once, I can pretend that I am the most important person to you._

* * *

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> (Boris and Sergey are the only ones to show up in person in the fic, but I felt like tagging Sergey's sister and mother in the character tags anyway.)
> 
> ((Yes I spell "Sergey" with a "y".))


End file.
